Seek not to inquire what the morrow will bring with it.
Who then is free? The one who wisely is lord of themselves, who neither poverty, death or captivity terrify, who is strong to resist his appetites and shun honors, and is complete in themselves smooth and round like a globe
I abhor the profane rabble and keep them at a distance.
Dispel the cold, bounteously replenishing the hearth with logs.
I shall not altogether die.
Once sent out, a word takes wings beyond recall.